


I Need A Child

by Kifujin Kitade (KifujinKitade)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:32:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1239841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KifujinKitade/pseuds/Kifujin%20Kitade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Squalo and Xanxus are going to have a child... How weird will that be???</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Need A Child

I need a child

 

'Vooi, nerdo, you must be kidding me.'

I looked bewilderedly at the dottore, a tiny man with big and thick glasses, advanced baldness and stoutness. His surgery was white and… well, white; like every surgery you've seen for all your life. I'm not the kind of man of getting sick very often, I'd even say never; that was why lately it had been truly a pain in the ass.

One day I woke up in my bedroom. Everything was like every day: the sun was shining outside, birds were happily singing and the same crap as always… Then suddenly a violent spasm broke in my stomach; the next hour I spent it kneeling in the water-closet and throwing up an incredible quantity of food I suppose I had actually eaten at some time in my long life. Yuk! Thinking about it still makes me want to run to the next bidet. Yet at that time I assumed some of the fuckers who were living with me had added some weird substance in last night diner (situation which had already occurred before, and also had brought exactly the same effects) so I didn't bother. Kicking asses had been my main preoccupation the rest of that day.

That day and the day after, and also the day after that day, as the morning nausea wouldn't settle down.

And next were mood changes. I mean, that last fact I didn't noticed it by myself, but the others did. Another day they all barged in the boss' office, everyone sniveling shit like "the second-in-command's mood is getting unbearable, worse than ever", or "for god's sake we can't work normally in those conditions", and I spare you the shittiest. Of course, Xanxus didn't give a damn as he started shooting at those retards. Eat that, fuckers.

So how did it finally end in me sitting in a dottore's office and listening to that idiota's fibs? Because at the very last he, I mean Xanxus, somehow got fed up of my – theoretical, I insist on this – mood changes. This is how it happened:

We were having diner in the living-room, as we were doing from time to time at week-end, and at the same time watching at some crap at TV. So, we were eating, nothing abnormal until now; well, nothing until Xanxus spilled some of his wine on the carpet. I snapped.

"Vooooi! Fuck it, Xanxus!" I suddenly burst in front of a dumbfounded Xanxus – and the fact is rare, solo Dio sa – standing between him and the screen. "That's why I hate eating in the living-room! You're all spreading shit everywhere! Look: there're pieces of bread on the couch, thanks to Bel who can't, for the sake of Jesus Christ, eat properly; Levy who've just let pasta fall down on the floor; and Fran (still a child, back then) who seems to be humanly incapable to drink juice by only using his mouth…"

"Do you see it now, boss?" Lussuria cried. "I told you he's been acting like this since few days! Please do something!...'

"Che dì, Luss? I'm not acting like anything! Vooi, do you wanna die?!"

"Boss, make the stupid captain quiet, please." Fran said with his unconditionally monotonous voice. "I can't listen to the drama. Today is the day the famiglia's priest come back from heaven to tell to that guy who is the true father of his daughter, and they're going to send Esposito to jail, but he's innocent, so it's a miscarriage…"

Stab. Stab.

"Shi shi shi. It looks like you're a fan of that shit." Bel grinned.

"Vooi! Brats! Stop eating like pigs!"

"Boss!"

"Stupid long-haired captain…"

"Die! But clean that fucking room before!"…

That wild evening finally ended up with a pissed off Xanxus shooting holes into the walls of the living, so we couldn't use it the days after, both with the hallway – we couldn't even cross through it to go out, we had to pass by the kitchen door instead, which wasn't badass at all.

So to make it short, that was the reason why I've been sent to the famiglia's dottore few days earlier. They'd take some samples for tests, they said, and then told me to come back that day. So I've been waiting for days for those stupid tests result in order to listen to that bullshit? No, no, no, no. No. The fucker must have done some mistakes somewhere.

'Voi, can't you redo the tests once more?' I nervously rubbed at my temple. 'I don't want to hurt your feelings, doc, but you're getting too old for your job. Perhaps…'

'For the hundredth time, Sig. Squalo. The lab is categorical.' In spite of all, the physician kept on smiling fondly at me. It was getting me more fuming than ever. 'They have miscalculated nothing, and I personally did tell them to redo the test almost… Oh! I didn't pay attention how many times… But be sure, signore, this is how the things are: you are pregnant. Felicitazione!'

I drove home as fast as I could, not without calling some roadhogs names on my way. Like hell would I stay one more second in the same room as that charlatan! Ten minutes later I was home.

Gracelessly, I kicked at the kitchen's door (how un-badass can that sound…) and, without casting a glance at the brats still stuck to their TV drama ("But, prete Fenton, I thought you were dead!" – "Yes, I am."), or Levy rummaging about in the fridge ("Hey, captain, didn't you see the ketchup?"), I took the stairs to the bathroom. My head was starting spinning and I needed to take medicines for those fucking vomiting. That was when the phone rang.

'Vooi! Can't someone pick that shit up?'

'Shi shi. Don't ask Prince to do such a peasant's duty.'

'But stupid long-haired captain, Esposito is about to escape. I want to see how.'

'Have anyone seen the ketchup?'

'Shut the fuck up, you trash!'

'Okay~ I'm taking it!' Lussuria's gay voice sang. 'Hallo~a!...'

Fine, I thought when I finally found my medicines in the pharmacy box. But then I heard an inhuman squeak down the stairs. Next, heavy stomps could been heard nearing me, followed right after by the bathroom door being torn from its hinges and a crying/beaming/cheery Lussuria hugging me until I lost my breath.

'Squ-chaaan how can you hide some nice news to uuuus?' He cried while hugging me.

'Mfwhat… yow nmoron…!' I was suffocating.

'What's happening? The Prince can't concentrate on the drama because you peasants are doing too much noise.'

'Bel-senpai. Such story don't really require that much concentration, but because you're lacking too much brain…'

Stab. Stab. Stab.

Great. The fag stirred up the other idiots.

'It was a phone call from Squ-chan's doctor!' Lussuria sang. 'He said he's going to have a babyyyy!'

'Who? The doctor?' Fran asked.

'Why did he bother to tell us?' Bel added.

'What's the matter, guys?' Levy stated.

The Brazilian man shook his head. 'Nooo~! Not the doctor! Squalo is!'

'Ah? Is he? But Granma told me only married people can have babies, and the stupid long-haired captain isn't even engaged, is he?'

Innocente bimbo.

'Shi shi. And she also told you that storks were bringing them in the belly of the woman?'

(Fran) 'Yes.'

(Bel) 'Pfft!'

(Levy) 'Ah?'

(Luss) 'Mou~ Don't destroy Fran-chan's innocence! And the pregnant one is…'

(Me) 'Voooi!' I finally broke the capoeira hold and dared the fag with my sword. 'Don't you fucking blabber about anything else or I swear by my sword I'll fucking cut your fucking tongue!'

(Luss) 'Agh!'

'Fuck you all!'

I got out of the bathroom, leaving the four idiots behind, just before:

'Oh! Squ-chan!' That was Lussuria, again. 'The doctor said that you should try to rest a little. Stress and tiredness aren't good for the baby. And if your nausea keeps on disturbing you, you should call him for suitable medicines.'

'Ah?' That last one was from everyone else.

'Voooi, wake up, bastard!' I shouted to Xanxus who was sleeping in his office. Who else do you think would have done this to me apart from that shitty bastard?

'Shut up, freak, and get out from here. Right now.' The dark haired Mafioso demanded. As if I would kindly do what he told me to.

'In your dreams, you fucktard! You fucking made me pregnant!' I was leaning on his desk, all teeth bared. The bastard didn't even seem shocked or nothing. Come irritante.

'What? I thought you were on the pill.' He simply stated. It sure slapped me on my face, just like an ugly giant fly would do on the windshield of a car that was running at 100 mph. My very expected what-the-fuck face came next.

I backed a little, surprised by the answer. 'What the…? S-so… what are you going to do about… about it?'

Xanxus looked at me with eyes that gave the impression to say "what are you fucking talking about?". He shifted on his sit.

'You're the one dealing with it, stupid bitch.' He yawned. 'Now go and fetch me some fucking tequila. And my steak. Affrettarsi, feccia.'

I slammed the door behind me.

That was the biggest shit. The biggest, the coolest, the most wonderful thing that had to happen to me in that god-forsaken life: I, a man, was soon going to be a mother, and the best was that my child's father was a fucking asshole of an alcoholic Mafioso.

Fucking great.

 

Dio mio, I hated that.

I hated that and I could do nothing but stare passively at my bare toes. And was someone burning pork in the kitchen? Because it was stinking. It was stinking like hell. And that fucking smell was making me nauseous – again and again. And fuck off, it had been that bad since that morning! Couldn't anyone check on if there wasn't anything burning in the oven? Anyway my legs would never bring me there, as swollen as they were at that moment.

The soggiorno had finally been repaired, and the previously-called couch of the back had become since two weeks ago my last bastion of solitude.

'Shi shi shi. Hey, sharky. Still want to throw your guts out?' A grinning blonde marveled behind my head.

The settee had been placed so that I couldn't see anyone that would come in at any time (even if they weren't that numerous at all, only the Varia members in fact). My bedroom had turned out to be the place I despised the most in the mansion, the shadowy reflect of the sun in it, which was the main reason why I liked it before, grew to be a source of discomfort. That was why I was spending most of my time in the soggiorno; or rather in a calmer part of it, some kind of boudoir in an angle isolated from the rest of the room by a light curtain. The tiny room was in a bow-window, so it was constantly bathing in the sun's ray, and the surrounding air always warm and soft – nice idea from Lussuria who had specially asked for the workmen to do that extra-job.

With the exception of my couch, there were nowhere else to sit, a very kind way to tell others: take your fucking things and get the fuck out of here. The boudoir was where I was napping, having lunch and dinner, and after that, dawdling with a silly expression… In short if I could remove all of my bedroom and the bathroom in, I wouldn't get out, never ever. Too sad it hadn't been the case.

'Sharky, I'm talking to you right now.' Bel insisted.

Though the magic couldn't hold on that long.

'Feccia. Non ne posso più.' I hissed. 'I wish that's important enough for me to be disturbed.' I didn't turn to him. I miraculously found a position that wouldn't twist my entrails the second after – my heavy legs resting above stacks and stacks of cushions to prevent the blood to pool in, and eyes stubbornly watching at the fair ceiling (same position as the day before).

'Yes, second-in-command Squalo. That's the stupid brat over there (he was talking about Fran) who's saying that peasant Jane will be soon confessing to Billy, though she's already with Jason. I told the kid she wouldn't do such stupid thing as leaving the rich and handsome heir for some poor peasant with no name and all…'

'Vooi. Is that why you've waken me up from my fucking nap, you motherfucking brat?' I still wasn't looking at him.

'But we need a referee, captain.' So next was Fran, huh? Couldn't those dim-witted brats leave me alone just one fucking second? 'And you're always sleeping, so we can't say when to accost you.'

'So just don't. And I don't fucking know anything about your stupid soap drama. Ask Luss instead.' Everything, anything to make them disappear from my sight and my fucking world.

'He's out on a mission.' Both answered.

'And I think Levy is dead.'

'Or ill, we don't know. He has disappeared since that day. Shi shi shi.'

'I guess the shock of seeing the second-in-command pregnant of the boss deeply destabilized him.'

So it left me to babysit those brats. Fuck.

'Voi. You're giving me a headache. Esci!'

They finally did so, Bel ushi shi-ing like a madman. Disturbato bambin.

Once more, I was alone. But that time with bells ringing in my brain. Fuck. And the stupid doc who fucking told me not to take any kind of medicines… I'd like to see him, crawling on all fours and crying in pain, that fucker… Gosh… What an upsetting vision.

'Ugh… Water…'

I got up and, without putting my slippers, went to the kitchen. I poured a glass of water and then brought it back to my couch. I was on the point of sitting down but, suddenly, a violent spasm in my stomach.

'Ouch!'

I bent forward, one hand on the back of the seat to sustain me. Crap. They were more and more numerous, and that was the kind of pain you'd never get used to, unless you're a maso. I really can't figure out how so many women could have myriads of children, or how those waiting for gemelli could make it until the birth without tearing their belly. Pregnancy truly is one dreadful.

Slowly I sat on the sofa, taking deep breaths in the process, and put the glass on a pedestal table next to me. One, two, three more spasms, then two more, and I was done.

'Is it that hurtful?' Xanxus' voice came out from behind. I frowned.

'Of course it is, bastard! Be happy you'll never have to go through such shit in your life!' I nervously pointed. But then an eyebrow rose. 'Why are you here?'

Since he'd learned about my pregnancy, Xanxus said nothing. I supposed it didn't make him want to explode with joy and dance like in High School Musical… or whatever. Nemmanco per sogno … But it didn't seem to make him angry either. Far from it. Or rather not, as he always looks as if he's angry. I knew right from the start Xanxus wouldn't be the kind of invested father or anything like it, but I didn't give a fuck. Xanxus was Xanxus. Nothing would change that fact. Ever. But if he did want to have that hell of a lil'monster of his, then fuck if I wasn't going to give it to him.

'W-wow…' I bent forward, hands hurtfully gripping at my stomach. Shit, it was like something was tearing my muscles from the inside, pulling and chewing at it at the same time... As slowly as I could I took the same pose as before. 'Voi, Xanxus. Non ho bisogno di aiuto, omai. All I need is to rest… Or more exactly… that's the only thing I'm allowed to do, as I mustn't take any sort of painkiller… So if you're looking for your booze or whatever, ask Bel or Fran or…'

I silenced when I felt Xanxus' hand on my forehead. The movement had been unexpected, yet welcome. I tilted my head in an odd orientation to look at the raven haired man sitting on the couch's armrest; that was when I noticed my forehead was covered with sweats.

'Che. What's with that cod's face, scum? One way or another, I'm that rascal's father.'

I sighed and went back to admiring the ceiling. In any case I was tired and I wanted to go back to sleep. 'He said – I mean the doctor – that I have to go through that shit at least for one more month. Just cheer up, he said, the bastard.'

We stayed still for some time. I couldn't tell why but Xanxus' presence was calming me down (for once). But then something tilted in my head.

'Voi, Xanxus. Why did you think I was on the pill?'

'Isn't that logical? Buonsenso, squalo, buonsenso.'

'I'm a man, for fuck's sake! Why the heck would a man take pill to prevent pregnancy?'

'And look at your state now.'

'…'

He smirked. 'That's what I'm saying.'

 

Finally it came! The frightful, the unrecognized, the destabilizing first scan… Some welcomed it with laughs, some with tears, and some with gooseflesh. Lussuria had been rapturous, just like an old auntie which has nothing else to pet than her countless cats; Levy, at the very last, stopped doing the dead and only lugubriously waved a hand toward us when we left; Bel was ushi shi-ing and insisted for us to bring back to his majestic person a video of the baby; and Fran just asked what was a scan. No one answered.

Because of my singular "particularity" the family doctor sent us to a friend gynecologist of his in a private clinica (I vividly refused to go to the one the family usually used to treat their wounded or/and amputated members, who knows for what reasons). So that morning, both me and Xanxus, more involved than ever – this wasn't that great of a deal: he was following me out of curiosity, and the only fact was already a prodigious thing in itself – we were off of for the appointment.

We took the Varia's limousine. In normal conditions, the trip wouldn't have taken more than half an hour, besides our appointment still was by one hour… However we managed to get there with two hours of delay, and lose our way on our return trip.

This is the magnificent story of our epopee.

'I don't care what the fuck he's doing! Chi comanda in questa casa? Get the shark's fat ass in that shitty car! Right now!'

From the kitchen I could hear Xanxus' voice roar outside. Like hell would I be bothered by his usual ranting. No way, and I said no way in this god-forsaken world I was going to let some traviare dress me in a weird outfit, rub some weird substance on my belly and play as he like with a fucking catheter! What kind of kinky was that?

'Vooi, Xanxus! Chomp. If you do so much want to go see that Frazier guy. Chomp. Then go by yourself! Chomp. I'm not going anyway!'

'Trash. Don't fucking make me haul you to the car!'

'Huh! Chomp. I'd like to see that!'

'Stop filling yourself with shit and come here already!'

'Vooi. Chomp. That isn't shit! That's fried chicken maledizione! Chomp.'

'That's the same shit!'

We kept on like that for some time before I finally capitulated and agreed getting on the limousine, but not without a refilled pack of General Tso's fried chicken (Lussuria does the best ones). Xanxus nearly slapped himself when he saw me with it, but I assume that he was getting used to see me with gravy dampened chicken at any time of the day since the few last weeks.

'And quit telling I'm fat' I mumbled while entering in the limo, vaguely pulling on my XL shirt 'That's humiliating.'

'That's because you are fat, fat ass.' Xanxus smirked before closing his door.

So we were off.

The trip should have been pleasant. The weather was mild, flowers had blossomed on the avenue's trees, and wind was softly blowing in the leaves. Che arredo di favola. But there's why I said should have been pleasant, should have been.

The trip should have been pleasing or at least bearable left for the chatty blockhead that had been acting as our chauffeur.

'So this is your first one, huh? I remember when my wife was waiting for my first child, my cute Azzio; I think the one who had the most thrown up was me! Ah! Ah! Ah, the little joys of fatherhood… Like when he said his first word. It was something like "baa-boo". I think he meant babbo. God, where did he learn that… And when he's doing bubbles with his saliva! There's so cute when they're that little!... And my third daughter, she's called Concetta. A real angel…'

He didn't stop talking until the eighth daughter (Bianca, I think she was). Right from the mansion to the clinica he fucking didn't stop talking, and the drive did last for fucking two hours. At any rate I had my magic chicken to relieve me from my boredom one way or another.

Still, there was something ticking in my head, just like when you know you've forgotten something but you can't remember what. At some time though, I reminded it. I turned to Xanxus who was sitting next to me on the rear bench, arms crossed and eyebrows frowning as usual.

'Voi. I think I forgot something.' I said between two mouthfuls of sauced chicken.

The raven seemed more upset. 'What?'

'Well, wasn't I supposed to drink water, like one liter or something?'

'Yeah. So what?'

'I didn't bring water.'

'You didn't drink at home?'

'No. Chomp.'

Xanxus sighed deeply. No need to know him for years to deduce the brunette was trying with all his might to avoid a tantrum. He hailed at the chauffeur.

'And when my first daughter was born, you see…'

'Scum, shut it and drop at the next grocer's…' Xanxus ordered. Anyway both of us were greatly fed up with that man telling the story of his family.

'Chomp. And at the next Chinese fast-food, too. There's no more General Tso. Chomp.'

'Si, signore.' The chauffeur beamed.

'Fuck your general. Water is all you're getting.'

'Voi. I'm sure there's one at the next turning.' I leaned on the front seat and pointed toward the fast-food. 'Chomp. Keep on.'

'Fat shark, I swear I'm gonna…'

Oh shit. There was a fucking waiting line. And it was a one way street.

'You see? Chomp. We're through.' I picked another chop of chicken. 'And we've water.'

Xanxus was agitatedly tapping a nervous finger on his temple. A vein could be seen thumping under his dark skin. 'It doesn't make any sense buying it if you don't fucking drink it.'

'Aye aye.'

That had been Erebo opening under our feet.

We finally got out from the infernal street, but it made us do a big deviation on our way. Ten minutes later I was done with my bottle. Twenty minutes later, I started having some trouble staying still on my seat.

'Voooi.' I faintly tugged at Xanxus' shirt. For once, he looked as if he was a bit concerned by my state.

'What's wrong?' He uncrossed his arms and looked at me with a tad of anxiety. I wish he could stay like this 24/7 instead of being a complete bastard 24/7. It gives you the impression of not being only trash under his nails he quickly needs to get rid of. What a pity that what I was going to say next wasn't anything romantic or even deserving worry.

'Devo pisciare.'

As a result after half an hour lost searching for descent toilets in the whole city, we finally, very finally arrived at the Dr. Frazier's office. The man was old, more or less the same age as the family's doctor and, somehow, very kind. He didn't say anything about our late hour. Moreover the irony of the situation was that we were so late that there was no one else waiting before us. The scan in itself went on quite smoothly. The baby was in good health, the maternity should carry on without problems, which was a good thing. I sighed (and I think Xanxus too) with relief when he said that.

After we got the photos (Bel and Lussuria would have made a ruckus if we didn't), we left.

Oh, and how did we lose our way on the return trip? Well, let's say the whole car was reeking of chicken sauce, and that with all the poor chauffeur effort to get rid of the smell. Although I wasn't particularly bothered with it, Xanxus sure was. He said he didn't want to go back in such a "tanfo", nor would the fetid car cross Varia mansion's gate in that condition. So Xanxus and I took a cab while the father of the large family had to go to the car washer. The tragedy was that the driver just got his license and he was new in the town. Another hour lost in vain. That day sure had taxed Xanxus' patience to the highest degree, even if he has so little.

Fortunately I still had two full-packs of General Tso with me, and I already knew Lussuria was cooking some more at home.

 

Little tummy, tiny paunch, cutie belly, fat shark (the last one was from Xanxus). Those were how the other people who I was living with were calling me whenever I was passing by. And the saddest was that I couldn't do anything for it as it was the truest truth at that moment: I was without hurry becoming a real demijohn bottle. I would never blame the General, but that was exact that I was getting – a little – fat lately. For instance I couldn't fit in my previous jeans anymore, my shirts weren't large enough to hide my stomach, and strangely I couldn't plainly see my feet when I was watching down. That was when Lussuria said:

'But caro mi~o Squ-chan!' He was beaming and hopping on the spot. 'You didn't notice your belly is star-tin-to-bulge! Kyaa~!'

We were both in the living-room watching a new TV broadcasting. It was some sort of game where people had to answer to some questions, and then right after to cross the entire stage with stilts and balloons filled with water in their mouth. Umanità sei una perduto cosa, I thought whilst glancing disgustfully at the guests. Yet, I had to live like this during the last month as working or going on mission had become a taboo for me in my state.

At some point, one of the TV guest burst his balloons, so he had to go back to the starting block. Burst of laughs could be heard, both from the HD TV, and beside me, from Lussuria. Fed up with all that stupidity, I looked back at the Varia Sun guardian and glowered at him. 'Is that so?' He nodded, wiping tears in his eyes.

'Yes, dear. And everyone did see it since long… Well, everyone but you. Nay, Bel-chan? Fran-chan?'

The two kids were precisely bringing in a new load of General Tso, altogether with candies and juices.

'Yes, stupid long-haired captain.' Fran replied with a placid tone. 'You're getting fatter and fatter every day God is giving us. The Heavens to forgive that blasphemous comparison.'

Just where was the comparison?

Then came Bel's turn. 'Shi shi shi. And soon your belly is going to hide the moon, if it continues swelling like this.'

'Vooi, shut up brats!'

'That's right. You two should congratulate Squ-chan and not mocking him with his tiny tummy!'

'You shut up too, Lussuria!'

"It burst again! Che peccato!" The TV host laughed at the idiot on stilts. What a crap of a broadcasting was that?

'Voi, Fran, give me the bloody remote!'

The brat shrugged. 'Bel-senpai hid it.'

Stab. Stab. Stab.

'Peasants shouldn't lie like this. Well, that's because you're lying that you're a peasant.'

'But you're the one lying. So if you lie, are you a peasant too?'

Stab.Stab.Stab.Stab.Stab.

'TV or real life, it sucks.' I whispered, one hand almost slapping my face. 'Voooi! I'm going out!' I shouted while getting up from my rocking chair (a rocking chair, like my nonna's nonna. That pregnancy was slowly but surely making a nonna of me).

What I said at least had the merit of shutting both brats and TV (Bel turned it off).

'Where are you going?' Lussuria asked, a bit worried.

'Voi, can't you see this?' I tugged at the shirt that could barely hide my stomach. 'I need a change of clothes; I have to buy new ones!'

'So you're going shopping? I'm in!' Lussuria chanted.

'Unfair. The prince is going too.'

'If the fake prince is, then me too.'

'Mme too.' A cavernous voice said. Maybe Levy. Nobody cared.

'Voooi! I said I was going out, but alone! Don't fucking stuck with me everywhere I go!' Why were things always ending that way?

'Anyway we won't bother you, Squ-chan!' The Brazilian man said and, by the same time he went and fetched his handbag in his room. 'I have to buy new garments too~!' Fucking shopping addicted.

'And we're out of candies.' Bel ushi shi-ed.

'Voi. Didn't you just buy three boxes of Ferrero Rocher? Don't wildly splurge money for shit!'

And Fran's 'And I want to go out.' Is that even a fucking reason?

'So here we go, guys~! Follow me who can!'

'Vooi! Listen to what I say!'

Thirty six degree Celsius in the shade. Thirty fucking six degree. So I kept thinking about as I was fanning myself with my newly bought broad-brimmed hat, sitting on the pedestrians' way's bench, legs spread irreverently. What a shit of a season. How could all of those people walk under that hellish sun without losing sanity? In spite of the fact that I was at that time sitting under a tree, the heat still was maddening me.

I took another gulp of frappé fràgola. Fuck. What were the other three idiots doing? Well, Lussuria was somewhere in one of those luxury shops, Bel, err… somewhere with toys and candies and… , and Fran… I couldn't figure out… Maybe with Bel? Wait. Wasn't that basically parental negligence? Shit! Who cares? I was fucking hot, I needed help to bring my shopping home (and there was already a little mountain of it stacking on the ground next to me), and I was fucking hot! That's all!

The lady in the last shop I went in told me to put my new clothes straightaway (things like a very large tunic and light woolly tights) instead of the jeans and XL shirt I was wearing previously, as a minimum if I didn't want to die from the canicule. The idea had seemed bright – at least until I got out from the shop. That was when I had the odd sensation of being turned into someone like… I mean the kind of… Well… You know… A mama… Going shopping with friends… Brr! What a weird sensation! I brushed it away.

So I was waiting in the heat, fanning myself like a bloody idiot and sweating like a pig, my sunglasses barely shielding my eyes from the light. Fortunatamente some hawkers were coming and going from time to time. I survived from dehydration thanks to their fruity milk-shakes, hallowed be their scary proliferation in those long days of summer, and that lady in the last shop too, and also…

'Voooi! What the fuck am I talking about?' I roared, not paying attention to the frightened passers-by.

I knew there was a café… somewhere… (I don't know, okay?) With fucking air conditioning! But at the only thought of crossing the street under that scorching hot sun… I sank in the bench, cursing my fate of being a stupid fat shark fanning himself with a hat, when, suddenly…

Ah? Che…Che fu? Ah? Again?

I systematically brought my hands to my stomach and felt it, wishing for the sensation to come again… And it did! It was faint and barely perceptible, but I felt it!

The first kicks! Or was it the fist? I couldn't tell, I only stayed like that, certainly smiling like an idiot, while sensing my baby's fist (or foot?) thumping under my skin. It was like a melody to me, surely the happiest feeling I had had since ages, and, somehow I wanted someone to share it with me.

'Voi! Xanxus! Anche voi…' I happily called at the raven haired man; but then I remembered he still was on an important meeting with the Vongola, and he wouldn't be back until next week – which did make, let's see… two or three days?

Disappointed, I came back at my previous preoccupation. Alas, it had stopped. I melancholically withdrew my hands, and, with a sad smile, stared at the bumping abdomen, soprappensiero. 'Reserving some for your father, huh?'

I couldn't wait going back home. Pregnancy in no doubt would make a blissful moron of me.

 

"Okay… Now add the sugar, half a dozen of eggs, the wheat flour…"

'Flour… Sugar and… Fuck! Where are the fucking eggs? Ah, yes, in the fridge.'

It was a hobby a developed during the fifth month of pregnancy: cooking – or rather baking, more often than not. Not need to say that by the time, the kitchen had become a real battlefield, one level upper than MasterChef

I, as usually, was idling in the mansion with nothing else to do. Everyone was out for work or for anything else normal people without a Montgolfier instead of a flat belly would do (yes, I should have done exercises, but I was lazy at the moment). And all those selfish bastards left me in that gigantic castle with nothing else but the TV to keep me company.

"Very well! So now, let's sear our seasoned redfish fillets in this smoking hot skillet…"

'Ah? Do we even have skillets?' I rummaged in one of the several cupboards we had in our contemporary kitchen. Hell, Lussuria was the only one doing cooking, habitually, so he was the only one who would know where all the utensils and cutleries things were. I uttered a cry of triumph when I finally found the precious casseroles in the third cupboard I'd looked in. Victoriously, I brought them on the counter where a wide range of fuming dishes, sweet-smelling desserts and newly baked cakes were already waiting.

More or less thirty minutes later:

"Good! This scent is absolutely appetizing! Great job!"

I looked at the blackened redfish on the kitchen TV, and then looked back at what I'd made in the real life. I grimaced. If the TV's fish was something black and quite soft, mine had become indeed black, but strangely hard and looking like charcoal. Che ve ne pare? I thought.

'Well. I guess the taste will be the same.' I conclude before moving the dish next to the others on the counter.

After that I opened the fridge and searched for… Ah… how did they call it, already? Ah! Something like… Something like pig… Cochon… Cochon de lait! I heard Lussuria bought some at the butcher's shop the previous day.

"You know, Brian, cochon de lait is one of my favorite treats! The taste is fabulous, with the crackling skin, the spices' scent…"

The cochon de lait thing, in fact, looked a bit weird when I watched at it closer. It didn't look appetizing at all, and the color was weird for something we're supposed to eat. But I presumed French food was always like that. Yeah. Up on the counter!

In the end cooking wasn't that bad, I thought whilst wiping my hands on my apron. I really didn't get why housewives always complained about it; that's why women are annoying.

With my arms akimbo, I smirked at my creations: Superbi Squalo's special chakalaka served with chai tea, next was fondue, ginger biscuits, the beef stroganoff, a german chocolate cake, a full carafe of mint julep, red velvet cake (that one was the hardest to do, I nearly burnt down the kitchen because of it), apple charlottes and blinis, bouillabaisse with clams, fettuccine alfredo, and lastly the British toad-in-the-hole – though I couldn't say what I used was whether Lincoln or Cumberland sausages.

And I smiled even wider when I noticed it was almost time for diner. But suddenly, I ticked. Wasn't that a smell of burnt? I turned left and right, trying to find where the smell was coming from, that was when I remembered there still was fucking roast meat on the grill! Crap! I ran to the gas cooker and shut it off, then I looked at the slaughter: basically it could be saved, still. But when I was on the point of hiding the corpse, a shriek reasoned.

'Oh my God! What happened in my kitchen?' Shit, Lussuria was back. 'And what's with that smoke?'

"Oh! It looks wonderful! It makes my mouth water!"

'Ugh! Is that a dead body? It smells like a dead body is being incinerated in the house.'

'No, it isn't, Bel-senpai. It's just your natural musk.'

Stab. Stab. Stab.

'All right… Kids, Squ-chan specially cooked all of… this for us. It would be a waste not to have a taste of it… Since it looks so… tempting…'

In spite of what he said, Lussuria didn't truly seem to even want to touch the dish in front of him. The Varia's Sun guardian only kept on fiddling at the meat with his fork. So were the others. Fran was eyeing at the meat as if it was on the point of assaulting him; the "Prince" didn't even want to touch at his dish. Only Levy had tried the bouillabaisse, but then his face turned green. I frowned.

'Voooi! You stupid shitheads can't appreciate high quality cooking! That's all! That's the fucking last time I try something new for dim-witted idiots as you!'

'Captain.' Fran called me. 'Is it normal that the cake is moving by itself? As if something was trapped in?'

'Aah? What the…'

I couldn't finish my sentence as Levy suddenly jumped from his seat and ran upstairs. Minutes later we heard the toilet flushing.

'And why are the charlottes tasting bitter? Shi shi shi. No way, you aren't going to poison the Prince, are you?'

'Don't worry about it, Bel-senpai. I'm sure your fake Prince's stomach can bear more than this.'

Stab. Stab.

'Voi! Don't fucking throw my fucking ginger biscuits!'

Bel played with a range of said panetteria the same way he did with his knives. 'Huh? Are these biscuits? They are so solid that I thought they were actually shurikens.'

'Bel-chan! That's not…' Lussuria tried to interfere.

Another flush.

(Fran) 'It moved again!'

(Bel) 'The fettuccine is tasting weird. Did you put medicines in?'

(Me) 'Shut up!'

(Bel) 'Ugh. And the mint julep is smelling mint.'

(Me) 'Isn't that how it's fucking supposed to be?'

(Bel) 'I don't like mint.'

(Fran) 'And I don't like sausages. Oh. It appeared. A chick.'

'Aaa?'

Stomp. That was Xanxus' boot on the table. The impact was so violent that it made the crockery tremble.

'Useless trashes. Can't you fucking shut up and eat that shit already!' Said man shouted with anger. Sweats beamed on the others' foreheads.

I frowned deeper and rose from my chair. 'This isn't sh-'

'Boss, it's going to kill us!' Bel the Devil's advocate. 'Tomorrow people are going to find our cadavers sticking in our own dejections!'

'For once I agree with what the fake Prince is saying.'

Stab.

Flush.

'I. Don't. Give a. Flying. Fuck.' Was the raven's answer. 'If you eat that shit ('I'm telling you it's not!') and die from it by tomorrow, you're all fired!'

Did say the Boss.

'… Yes boss.' Came the lackeys' quavering reply.

Flush.

The next day, the all Varia members (except for me and Xanxus, me because I loved my cakes and Xanxus because he found some leftovers of General in the fridge), all of the Varia members were sent to the hospital for a general enema.

We called cleaning women to deal with the shambles in the mansion – that was vomit spreading almost everywhere in the bedrooms as if we just had a scene of Exorcist, vomit so thick and dark an expert would have sworn they were mixed with human's guts.

Buon appetito.

 

I was feeling heavy and fattest than ever. People say that it's nothing, that you lose'll all that weight right after the delivery, and that I shouldn't be worrying about it. Well, it wasn't like I was worrying about or anything; but hell was it however normal that I was losing balance more and more often?

Fuck! Last week-end I was taking a walk in the garden, and then I was walking, just fucking walking, and without the slightest warn my legs started gnawing, my back aching and my eyes prickling. My tiredness was to such an extent that I had to stay still on a parapet for about ten minutes. I, the second Sword Emperor, had been reduced to such a state. Quale rovina! That was quite irritating, though I didn't tell anyone about it. I somehow regretted it later.

The same day I decided to stay locked – in the figurative sense – in my new "bedroom". I was pissed off and I didn't want to see anyone. For once, the other ones did actually get it and avoided me for the rest of the day. The same occurrence appeared the next day, and the day after: I was never leaving my couch, except for bathroom or changing clothes, since someone was always bringing meals to me – it was usually Lussuria (benché non una sorpresa – quite sure that the others wouldn't even notice if I died of famine).

The sun finally got fed up of hitting on our head and seeing our ugly faces. So did the season: summer said goodbye and left for the next year. Fall was my host for my sixth month of pregnancy, tainting my dull lonely days with the red and orange melancholy of the scattered leaves.

The time's monotonia was perfectly fitting my gloomy thoughts. When I noticed I couldn't walk two meters without needing to lean on a wall at each step, I, in some way, grew tired of using my feet again. My favorite hobby went back to napping and watching at the ceiling of my boudoir.

Oh, only one detail about the tiny room.

When I first started squatting in, months earlier, do you remember? There was only a couch where someone could sit. A little while after, an armchair made its way in; there the raven haired Mafioso used to drowse in when he was off duty. Yet, those moments were rare – and they grew less and less frequent as time was going by. The result was that it left me with a seat too much and gnawing at my neck whenever I looked at it.

That was the first days of my seclusion. At the very beginning of it, they all thought that I was okay, that my depressiveness would pass away and soon I would go back to my usual loud and annoying self.

Two weeks later I still was shutting myself in my bastion of solitude, and people were starting to doubt about their so-called chara-reversal. They asked me if I wanted to see a doctor, I told them they could go fuck themselves. We left off there.

Later, Xanxus came.

'What kind of drama queen are you playing now?' The brunette said and at the same time sat on his armchair, crossing his legs.

'Voi. I'm not playing anything.' I hissed. 'I don't want to see anyone right now, that's all.'

He looked at me with his "are you fucking serious?" face, one ounce more skeptical, although. 'You're telling me you've been staying here for days without any reasons, for the only pleasure of staying confined indoors? Since when did you take liking at hikikomori's life?'

I shrugged at the sarcasm. I didn't frown, I didn't curse. I only shrugged tiredly. Believe me or not, that's your fucking problem. 'That's just it.'

'Don't fucking kid me with that. What happened?' Xanxus raised his voice.

Che. What an asshole. Can't he let people depressing alone in their corner? Chi sei? Sei padre mio?

'What the hell of a business of yours is it? Just go back to your shitty office and leave me alone.' The stiffness in my members was getting back. I rubbed at my eyes.

'You're asking what business of mine is it? Scum, you kind of make it my business. Don't fucking complain now.'

I sneered. 'Your problem? You say it's your problem now? You didn't seem to be concerned about it for the last month.'

'Ah? So this is what it was about?' Xanxus grunted. 'It was about fucking feelings and shit?'

Che pattume. His disdainful tone had been the trigger that raised the anger I succeeded repressing for days.

'And tell me why shouldn't it be?' I rose from my seat. 'You never give a damn about me! The only reason why you've started considering me in your little world was because of the baby; otherwise you wouldn't even bother whether I'm dead or alive! Even... Even now you already seem to get tired with it…'

'You should calm down.' Dark eyebrows contracted and ruby eyes locked with mine.

'I'm fucking tired, Xanxus! I'm tired of my state, tired of being left behind… But you don't, you won't understand this because you don't have to go through it… Never…'

'Hey, Squalo…' His voice was getting deeper and deeper.

Strangely my vision was starting to blur. What was happening? It was like my legs wouldn't support my weight anymore…

Then it came, the fall.

I woke up. The room where I had been sleeping was dark, bathed in half-light. I was lying on my back, so my vision was limited to above my bed; but I still could glimpse at heavy curtains hiding giant windows, walls covered with red wallpaper, and the dark, silken sheets I was wrapped with. I knew that place.

'… Yes, they're both safe … It has been a minor indisposition. They're likely to happen, in his state… Just try not to upset him, and tell him not to stay inside all the day…'

Mmh? Who's was that already? Quei voce…

'Aa. I'll do so. Mero scomparsa…' That one was Xanxus'… wasn't it?

A door slammed dully. Xanxus' face finally came in my sight before the dark haired man sat on his bed, right next to me. Our eyes locked. He looked furious, as always.

'That was the doctor. He said you two are okay, but you shouldn't lie on your back for too long. How are you feeling?' He drily asked.

I grinned faintly. 'Voi. Like a pancake thrown on the ceiling.'

'I'm not joking.'

'Neither do I.'

We both stayed silenced, Xanxus' eyes staring at my face, and me trying precisely to avoid his scorching gaze, looking everywhere but at him. It was like a silence game neither of us wanted to lose. I hated those kinds of moments; they were always awkward, scomodo. All I wanted to do was waiting in another room for the storm to leave, and come back when I would be sure I wouldn't risk anything anymore. Or in my state, rather, tell the brunette to wait in another room, etc.

At last, maybe fed up with that stillness, Xanxus stood up and went to the other side of the bedroom. When he came back he had something in his hand – I couldn't tell what exactly from my position. Sighing, he sat back on the bed and pulled my right arm to him before putting a silvery ring (a thin, shiny ring set with only one refined diamond) on my third finger and kissing it.

I didn't get the move. I stared intently at the raven's face: he didn't give the impression of being joking or drunk or another second state. So why? ...

Then a packet of pop corn popped in my head.

 

'Hey, fat shark…'

Ah? Was that Xanxus' voice? I laughed. How could that be possible? I already knew I was sleeping, I was sleeping like a log; so that voice was with no doubt the Xanxus in my dreams' voice – if that person even do exist.

'You're annoying, scum.'

Aye aye, it surely looked (sounded) like the real one, always calling me names and so one. Okay, let's sleep a bit more…

'Wake up, fat ass! I mean it.' The voice got angrier.

'Mm…Two minutes… Only…' I mumbled in my sleep.

'Like hell! Wake up. Fucking. Now!'

Suddenly I felt my pillow being pulled away, so I finally had to wake up, and the scene I saw quite destabilized me. It was Xanxus, himself in his pajamas, in his bed, in his bedroom, and with saliva dripping from his left arm.

'Mmh? 'Morning… What?' I muttered while lazily rubbing my eyes still glued with sleep and slowly rising from the sheets. 'You're drooling in your sleep?'

Xanxus was angry. Before I uttered that sentence, he was already angry. So when I actually said it, he got pissed off.

'You are the one drooling in your sleep! And God only knows why you found it wise to use my arm as your fucking pillow!' He roared.

Me? Drooling? Voi, ma que coglione! That's nonsense, I wanted to say, but I didn't want to piss the raven even more. I let it pass.

'Allora?'

'Don't "Allora?" me. Hurry and get your lazy ass up.'

I watched at the raven rising from the bed and walking to the next bathroom, my eyes from time to time lured by the glow of a golden ring on his fingers. My eyes went back to watch at its twin on my own, flesh, hand, waving it leisurely in front of me.

Sleeping in Xanxus' room had become since not so long a new habit – or rather it had become a daily fact. I didn't complain. Watching day after day those beautiful black locks at my waking, having as first view in the morning the black haired-man's tanned, scared, and well-built torso wasn't indeed not bad at all. Nor scenting his manly perfume at bedtime. Nor cuddling next to him in the bed. Nope, not bad at all in my eyes.

'Mmh?' I looked down on my balloon-like belly and noticed some buttons had – again – popped in my sleep, showing the stretched skin (God be blessed, with no vibex). Satisfied with its shape, I got up and followed Xanxus in the bathroom.

While combing my hair in front of the tiled room's huge mirror, I thought once more: what were we supposed to do that day again?

'We're going shopping.' Xanxus said when he got out from the shower, a towel draping his waist. 'You forgot?'

'No, I didn't!' I yelled and started brushing my teeth. 'It's just a lapse of memory!'

'Who are you mocking? If it's not for work you can be such a bloody idiot.' I heard him shouted from the bedroom. 'You'd better get done with it by five minutes.'

'Vooi, don't fucking annoy me, bastard! If I can't finish it that's only your… Oh shit.'

'What?' The raven re-passed in front of the bathroom's door.

'I swallowed the toothpaste.'

'Remind me why I'm following you.'

We were crossing through a wide shop dedicated to babies and mothers' stuffs. It was only one of the so numerous shopping center's shops. Everything in there was all pink, fluffy and damn cute… I assumed the sight of Xanxus – that scarred, frightening, gloomy Mafioso – in that sort of place was… a bit creepy.

'Voi, because they said I should already have things ready for the birth.' I poked around the ranges and ranges of teats, rattles and bibs. That's frightful, how many things one would need for only one toddler. And not only for the birth: the rascal would need after the mother would leave the hospital, special things only for the baby's bedroom, his or her lunchtime, bath, for the outings, … Err. Well, for the whole lot. That was at any rate what the TV presenter told the previous day. So for once, I had to put my ego aside and contribute to our wonderful consumer society's growth.

'No, that's the reason why you are here. But what about me?' The tanned man had been tagging along with me for hours, with not a small amount of will. Let's at least respect his courage of showing up in a shop called: "The paradise of mommy and baby". I couldn't help but have a twitch at my jaw, repressing myself from shaking with laughter, when I saw the raven's what-the-fuck face when he watched at the sign board (un grande applause, per favore).

'That's because I'm not allowed to go by myself for so long, and someone has to be with me – ah, can you give me that bottle, just below…' I was ogling at a sweet little pair of embroidered sockets while pointing at another beside Xanxus. It went on the slowly piling up stack of baby-stuffs in the wagon, right between a rattle and a plush.

'And why was that "someone" has to be me?' he said and gave me the other pair with an annoyed glower. We pushed our wagons forward.

'Because Lussuria insisted. And nobody else wanted to.'

Case closed. I pushed the wagon forward. I examined the checklist: toys, caps, feeding bottles, talc, shampoo, baby-carriage, drapes, nappies, drawsheets, babyphones (of course they would be numerous; the mansion had many rooms)… 'This one's okay… Those should be enough to fill the baby's room.'

'Hey, are you sure you're not overdoing it? No matter how you look at, you're overdoing it! Admit that you're only enjoying doing shopping for the toddler! And why would a newly born need a rocking horse?' Xanxus grunted. We were at our fourth shop, and the raven was the one left to drag the most of the shopping; even if some had already been sent in the car, it was still piling up.

'Vooi, don't be grumpy! I'm just following the goddamn checklist!' My cheeks burnt as I waved the – half a meter long – list furiously, and entered in the next shop, not caring about the heavy sigh behind me. The same scene kept on for some hours.

We went to another shop. There Xanxus showed a trotter and asked why we weren't buying it.

'Voi. Are you nuts?' I yelled. 'You don't want the baby to grow wobbly?'

'Furthermore it's a very dangerous thing, madam.' A woman out of nowhere accosted us. 'Do you know how many children have accident every year because of them?'

Xanxus glared dangerously at her. '…But who the fuck are you?'

End of afternoon. We were, at last, at the very last, through.

I was sitting at a food store, taking a mouthful of kebab, and waiting for Xanxus to come back from packing all of our stuffs in the car. A little later he was back and ordering tequila. He looked bewilderedly at the waiter when he said they didn't sell any, "But if it doesn't matter, Sir, we have beer". The raven, hearing that, grimaced and dismissed the boy ('Get out from my sight, cafone. Rompi cazzo') before grabbing at my skewer.

'Vooi. If you want some, just order!' I yelled, indignant at the act and pulling to me the remaining kebabs.

'Shut it, trash.' He sat on the stool newt to mine. 'We're leaving that creepy place, it's sickening.'

'When I'll be done with those.' I pointed at the pile of skewed meat next to me. 'Voi, you don't want the car to reek kebab, do you?'

Xanxus didn't say anything. Thinking about it, that was odd; I mean, spending time with him – in such a place above all. I stared blankly at the comings and goings of the other shops' customers in front of me, sitting idly with the scarred Italian at my side. That ambiance was relaxing, somehow: no gore, no stupid subordinates to yell at, no fucking impossible mission to undertake… Oh finally damn that was boring!

At last Xanxus spoke 'Talking about the car, I'll have to get a new one.'

'Mmh? What's wrong with this one?' That's right. What was wrong with his coupé? He glared at me with eyes more infuriated than ever. What did I say again?

'I'll have to buy an estate car.'

I glared back at him, eyes giving back each amount of anger with an equal amount of bewilderment when I imagined that damn bastard of a triggerman driving the car.

Madre santa di Gesù. How un-badass was that.

 

We were back from my sixth prenatal exam. Just like for each one, I sighed with relief when the Dr Frazier told me everything was all right. He also told me that I had to physically prepare myself for the long-awaited labor. It meant no long trips in car anymore, no stress, a lot of sleep and rest, and preferably I should stay near the maternity hospital where I would give birth.

However that last fact still raised questions.

'Vooi! I don't want to go in a fucking hospital! I hate them!' I slammed the door of the hallway behind me. We directly went to the living.

Xanxus sprawled in his armchair. 'What? You wanna give birth in a cowshed? Unfortunately, that's a luxury Mary only was able to afford. Mere human beings have to go to the hospital. Attaccati al tram, they say.'

'Ushi shi shi. You're doing it in a cowshed with the cows and sheep like in the good old days?' Bel brought back his ugly sneer. How could it be that in a mansion as big as the Varia's the few occupiers living in always had to see each other's horrible face over and over again, at least once in a day?

'In a cowshed? Grandma told me a story like that once.' Look, that's what I'm saying.

'Voi, I won't go in a fucking cowshed nor in a hospital so fuck off, brats! A che scopo…' I slumped on the living-room's couch. TV was already on, showing one of the most sadomasochistic program humanity had ever created; they call it X Factor.

"Tut tut, tala ta. This is what I want, baby…" A silly smoothie was singing on the screen. Ma che schiffo! Oh Lord, did you bring all the smart people in this goddamn world to a waste ground and then shoot them until there is no one left to blabber about? I took the remote; by miracle it was close enough to me so I didn't have to move from my seat. I changed the channel ('Stupid long haired-captain, I wanted to see the winner.'), but only more disappointment was waiting for me: mounts and mounts of people covered with something like oil all over their body, slipping, sprawling, trying to run or tackling their comrades… Ugh. I almost retched when I saw that.

'Oh. I've heard about it.' Fran said from the back of the couch. 'This is the new TV show from Japan. They're all trying to get to that platform, you see, right there. But at first they're damped with oil, and then…'

I turned the TV off. I didn't want to hear about it anymore

'So, back to your problem, sweeties, why don't you like hospitals?' That was Mama Lussuria.

'Voi, is that question even worth an answer?' I shrugged. 'I don't like the smell in their corridors. They always smell of antiseptics and bleach. ('Oh, that's the anime's…' 'Shut up, frog.') And it reminds me of the dentist's cabinet. I hate that.'

'And there are too much people.' Levy whispered loudly from the door.

'Levi-a-Than' Bel solemnly stated. 'You are supposed to know that a royal decree has declared that you're not allowed within a radius of ten meters of the plaintiff Squalo as you're face is too hideous that it could give him nightmares.'

'It's unfair!' Levy cried miserably.

'Shi shi shi shi. That's even.' His grin widened maniacally. 'Now, death penalty!'

Stab. Stab. Stab.

No one remembered the debate about hospital after that.

'Nee~ Squ-chan! Don't be like that!' The Brazilian man was sticking to me like a crying puppy, which was, with his build, a quite creepy spectacle.

I was reading a tale from the compilation I'd just brought. It was called Il diavolo dal naso d'argento, the story of a devil who wanted to marry three girls at the same time. A pack of crap, if you want my opinion. I'd been like that since morning, reading wearily at the same book with the same kind of characters getting into troubles until the typical hero came to save them.

Some said that parents should read stories to their child, that it's good to make them sleep, or simply to entertain them. Personally I don't remember what kind of stories my own parents used to tell me; I don't even know if someone had read anything to me apart from reports and shit. But, surprisingly it didn't scare me at all. I was even pretty happy to do that soon. Please blame ocytocine for that.

That day I thought my boudoir would be enough of a peaceful place to read, but I was wrong seeing that Lussuria got a fix idea since lunch: his genius plan was to make me actually sing for the baby.

'No way.' Was my only reply to the Gaylord. I continued following the young Margerita's voyage. Apart from the Brazilian man's squeaks, only the sounds of the pages rubbing against each other could be heard in the tiny room, that and Xanxus' light snoring, next to me, in his armchair.

'Don't say that, Squ-chan! Did you know that singing is really good for the health? In order to sing, you have to use all of your facial muscles, so it helps keeping your features' elasticity and youth! And because it's constraining you to a ventral respiration, it really helps you calming down! Some specialists even said that singing can strengthen the link between the mother and her child…'

'Can't you see I'm already fucking calmed-down now?'

'Oh! But if you don't try, you'll never know! Okay, sing with me! One, two…'

A trigger's sound. That was the simpliest way to say: vai a farti friggere.

'… Or… Ahem…' All of a sudden he lost all his initiative and was backing in the living-room. 'If you really don't want, I can't force you, right?... Ah ah… Bye!'

Lussuria disappeared behind the curtain like a blast of wind.

'Che. What a nuisance.' I whispered. 'Margerita then fixed a dummy with her appearance to the balcony…'

However, after Lussuria left, the silence felt heavy. It wasn't an awkward silence so it wasn't distressing, yet it still was boring. Un muro di gomma. And perhaps because of Lussuria's stupid idea, because of the story I was reading, or maybe because of the dull sound of the wind outside, a familiar rhythm came back to my mind. It was a soft, measured song I learned long, long ago. It actually was so old I didn't even remember when I heard it first. It wasn't that I really loved that song; it's just that it somehow reminded me of happy memories I maybe had in the past. It made me smile.

At first I only hummed it, and the more I did, the more I could remember the lyrics of it… If I didn't mistake myself, it was something like…

Uno specchio d'acqua

Fermo e arrugginito.

Rispecchia, talvolta,

Rispecchia la verità.

Libertà è solitudine.

Mi volgo al cielo

Mi volgo al cielo notturno:

"Aiutami !" "Aiutami !"

Oh dolci raggi

Tra le nuvole

Mia strada maestra.

Oh Madre luna. Luna piena…

'...Tu sei la Luna, pietosa Madre. La Luna piena...'

'So you can sing after all.' Xanxus' voice rose beside me, it nearly startled me. I vividly turned to the raven haired-man, agape. I didn't even notice that he wasn't asleep anymore, or that I was singing aloud! Head resting on his wrist, chin high and mocking, the Mafioso was smirking. In a laps of second blood pooled in my cheeks.

'What?' He pursued. 'You don't remember what comes next?'

'… Che.' I think I was blushing very intensely at that moment. 'Anyway it's over.'

I came back to my story.

 

It hurts.

It hurts, it's burning. And I want it to stop, to stop right now!

Shit, one more time. A contraction. Three, two… Another one. God, how many times is it going to hurt like this?

'Vooi… It hurts…' I heard myself hiss. 'Xanxus… It fucking hurts…'

The alarm arrived at more or less six in the morning. I practically fainted when I saw that monstrous pool of I-didn't-want-to-know-what in the bed. Straight away the whole house was upside down, Xanxus and Fran hastily packing in a baby-bag stuffs that would never fit a grown up person, Bel calling for the hospital, but unfortunately he didn't find the right one's number and instead called at a hospital in another town. Levy was the one who went to take a car (as the royal decree still was valid), while Lussuria was with all his might and patience accompanying/pulling a contorting, crying, and cursing myself downstairs.

As a result I was in a hospital private bedroom, waiting, waiting, waiting… Voooi! Per caso have all the doctors in this damn place disappeared in another state or are they on strike?

My whole body was dampened with sweat and, down there, well-coated with amniotic fluid. Fuuck, the sensation was gross. Plus the striking pain in my lower abdomen, it was simply making me want to reach at the next scalpel and cleanly tear my stomach open. I think that was the main reason why Xanxus was sitting next to me, gripping tightly at my hand: so that I wouldn't do something really stupid in front of hundreds of witnesses.

'Goddmanit… where the fuck is the fucking epidural?' I yelled at the young nurse who was supposed to keep an eye on me.

The woman shuddered from tip to toe. 'I-i-… I'm sorry… but the professore said…'

'Voooi! Non me ne frega niente ! I don't give a damn what that fucker said and bring that fucking shit already!'

I pressed harder at Xanxus' hand. Shit, once more. Beads of tears were shining in my eyes. To what was I giving birth, a human child or a fucking Godzilla?

'Hey, shark trash…' The raven man, who had been silenced until that, finally voiced, frowning deeply. 'My hand…'

Hand? What hand? His hand? Who fucking cared about his hand? My guts were being torn apart! What was his hand compared with my agony? Holy fuck, I think I was going to cry!

'So at least can you tell someone to bring him to the operating theater?' He demanded.

'I can't!... Only the professore…'

'Fuck it, vooi!' A bedside lamp crashed two inches from the young woman's head. She shrieked, Xanxus sighed.

'Just call him here, if you don't want to die today.' He said. Without further ado, the midwife nodded sharply, pale as death, and ran out of the room, slamming the door and leaving both of us alone.

In the bed, I was groaning and squirming like a madman; speaking profanities had developed itself into a basic need for me. I was whether uttering sharp cries of pain, whether damning Hell and Heaven, whether both.

After maybe half an hour stuck in that hellish bedroom, the doctor finally came. That smiling shitty bastard, if I could walk I would have kicked his sorry ass and everything surrounding it.

The shittiest thing he told me that day was that, after examining me, I should wait for some time still, as the baby wasn't in the good position yet, the cervix wasn't open enough, and other crap I didn't want to hear about. When I told you someone had to stay with me to prevent a bloodbath.

'Porca miseria… Then… At least… anesthetic…' I was almost breaking the brunette's hand in mine.

'Oh, no! Dear no!' He smiled, the bastard. 'In your state, I would never risk that, ever! You see, Squalo (Don't easily call me by my name with your shitty mouth!), your body may seems tough, but the inside isn't as strong as the outside. You know, the case is rare, yet real, that …' And shit like that. Stingy bastard. A second lamp crashed on the wall, followed by the mural clock.

I sank in the overly soft mattress and pillows. Pregnancy also does learn you resignation.

The next labor hours (it lasted 18 hours, they told me after the delivery), I spent them brooding in that shitty bedroom again, teeth grinding, legs wide open and nails digging – I assume – hurtfully in Xanxus' wrist. It seemed that my bad mood was reaching peaks it had never grazed before, even if I was indeed Superbi Squalo, the fearful Varia's second in command. If at least it didn't hurt that much (which was in fact the only fucking detail that was worth consideration), I could have borne the blinding incompetence of that hospital's brainless staff.

'Fuck. Release my hand.' Xanxus stated.

'Wha- You're fucking annoying, you know? Ma che cazzo voi ?' I suddenly snapped.

'No, it's not that. Just release m-'

'Can't you have a little concern for my fucking conditions? I'm waiting for your goddamn kid, fuck it!'

'It's bleedi-'

'And where the fuck is that bitch of a midwife? Is that even impossible to have a fucking glass of water in this damn hospital?'

'I can't get you one if you only release my-'

'Voooi! Stupid! I hate hospital… Stupid doctors, stupid bitches, stupid rooms that don't even have fucking bedside lamps…'

'…'

In retrospect the raven haired man was actually pissed off, not as much as me, but even so…

'Do you want me to get some water?' That sentence nearly scorched his tongue, I swear. It had a false ring from him. Suspiciously I glared at the tanned man.

'Aah. Okay.'

One minute later he was back with a bottle of water and a pack of tissues. I took the water ('Thanks…') still staring warily at him; Xanxus slumped heavily on his seat and combed his hair with one hand. That was only then that I noticed he was actually tense and uneasy – in his way, I mean, which implies that he looked more irate than ever.

I took a gulp and stared. I stared. I stared. And I cursed inside.

When the heck did we get into the fourth dimension? That is, a dimension where Xanxus would in point of fact worry about something else than his meat, his goddamn Tequila, and other small bothers from Vongola or Varia stuffs…

'Crap…'

Another contraction. I rolled on myself and bit my lips. God, kiddo, if you want that much to get out, then get out already and quit on fucking torturing me!

The pain was unbearable; I closed my eyes. That was why it startled me when I felt a hot breath on my neck.

'Squalo…' Xanxus whispered in my ear.

I opened my eyes, meeting burning red ones. Surprisingly it did secure me, not so much that it made my pain go though. If I was in a dire pinch, Xanxus is the last man in the world from whose I would wait his help. He is narcissistic, ill-mannered, cruel and violent. And that's only the visible part of that iceberg of heartlessness called Xanxus.

But at that time he was there.

And the raven being there was perfect enough.

'Voi. Thank you…' I whispered. He was close enough to hear me. The tanned man averted his eyes.

'Why are you thanking me?'

Yes. Everything was perfect enough.

'Thank you.'

 

And Pride

His little feet were running on the grass, sometimes speeding awkwardly and sometimes entangling together, making their owner fall. Right after though, the one year old boy would bravely get back on his feet and, hushing a sob, he took back his play in the park among his army of plush toys. I was watching smugly at the cute scene of my son playing with fluffy cubes and balls next to me.

'That's good, Calli. Don't hurry, take your time.' I said when the infant was trying to built some kind of tower with all his toys. The tower was about his height. His expression while building it was dead serious, like the sternest architect's one. 'Little by little, you put the small ones above big ones and… Oh damn.'

The all construction collapsed, all thanks to one stupid cube placed too on the edge of the tower. Calli was starting to cry: his eyebrows furrowed, a wrinkle showed on his forehead and tears were flooding in his dark red orbs, a bit too fuming for his age – the exact replica of his father's.

'Danna… Danna…' He stuttered between two sobs.

'Voi, I already told you not to talk like that. How are you supposed to make friends if they hear you speak like that?' I ruffled Calli's curled hair. It was silvery and short, just like mine when I was his age.

Calli sobbed even louder and threw himself in my arms. That time he literally burst.

'Bwaah! Waaahaa!'

'Yeah yeah. Come on, look!' I took him in my arms and, once up, began swinging him up and down. Okay, that wasn't very safe, but I wasn't going to let my little one blubber in public! 'Up! Up! It's going up! Vooi, Calli!'

So there we were: me trying to quiet Calli, singing lullabies and making funny faces, and said-Calli still wailing like hell. Crap, that side of him, I'm sure, didn't come from me. That's Xanxus' bad temper. I'm sure, that's it. No matter how many times does everyone say that it's even worse because of his loud voice he surely had inherited from me, I don't care. This side's from Xanxus.

'Laido! Laido! Mer…'

'Voooi! Okay, I understand so don't talk like that I said!' I sighed tiredly. He was nevertheless weighing 15 kg. Lifting that mass for some minutes would make anybody's arms tickle. 'Holy shit. How come that everything going out from that child's mouth is only swearing?'

I still could remember the outraged faces of the other mothers when he decided that it was too boring to only sit there and play peacefully with other children the same age of him. He actually had the guts to throw mud at them while swearing like he usually does when a girl took away one of his very very numerous plush toys.

"Stupido. Bastardo. Feccia…"

God. No more swearing in front of the child. Never more.

Everyone ran away, hands stopping their kids' ears for them not to listen at more profanities. I personally found that very amusing, like a "that's my boy!" feeling. While sneering like a madman and with Calli struggling on my arms/shoulders/head (which was a somehow stupid fact as I was also pushing a baby-carriage forward) and our enormous bag on my back, I went away to a more isolated place.

To say the truth, everyone (apart from the mothers in the park) agreed to say that Calli – Callisto Carmine Vongola – was surely the cutest toddler they ever saw. I could only be of the same opinion with them. That day particularly, he was at his best wearing an overblouse (with a bonnet he had thrown in his tantrum) with ducks pattern. Why ducks? Because he liked them. Don't ask me why children love ducks and giraffes, explaining a nuclear reaction would be easier for me.

After hours of nursing later, Calli finally calmed down. At first I thought it was because of me; I was wrong. Something else was drawing the toddler's attention: ice cream. Someone was selling some in a corner of the park. The infant spotted him because of all the children surrounding the truck.

'Mama! Mama!' He pointed at the group of children. 'Mamaaa!'

'What? Ice cream?' I looked at the direction he was showing. 'Voi, Calli. You've just had snack. Your stomach will get hurt, you know.'

He didn't care. He climbed on my shoulder and reached to the truck. The boy nearly fell down if it wasn't for my swordsman's reflexes (used in a much deviated way).

'Awuu! Baah…'

I frowned. 'Voi. Ma va là ! You can talk clearly when it's about calling people names, but when it comes to that… ouch! All right! All right! I'll buy you one!' I finally gave in when he pulled painfully at my hair, almost tearing the locks from their roots.

We were sitting on a bench. Calli was enjoying his chocolate flavored ice cream; I was too tired to eat anything. From time to time some passer-bys, mostly young mothers pushing ahead prams with babies inside, would glance at our weird pairing. They would smile fondly and keep going.

Seems like women, and mainly mothers, quite love that, caring fathers or shit like that – one of the most prized flirt's means elder said.

'Vooi. Now it's dripping!' I scolded Calli. Because of his slowness whilst eating it, the ice cream was dripping on his clothes, staining it. The boy looked pretty bored with it. He only threw it on the ground. A vein twitched on my forehead. 'If you didn't want to eat anymore, you didn't have to throw it…'

I reached to his hands to clean them with a Kleenex, but Calli suddenly wiped them on my face. 'Ubuu!'

Motherfuck. Surely I was looking like a fucking idiot like that.

'…'Kay… Bring your hands here…'

'Trash. You look like a fucking idiot now.' Xanxus' voice called behind me. I really didn't need that goddamn bastard to state something that obvious to me.

'Voooi. What the fuck are you fucking doing here?' I yelled automatically.

The raven folded the baby-carriage. I almost applauded at the apparent easiness he did it. He then picked up the bag at my feet. 'I'm lifting you home, dumb trash. Or are you too enjoying yourself seducing young mothers…'

Oh? Was it that late? It was indeed: the sky was already tainting orange. One hour spent with a kid like Calli really disappears in one minute. In some way, it's kinda disappointing.

'Shut the fuck up!' I shouted and got up, the silver haired boy close on my heels. The kid had run for the entire day, but he didn't look tired at all. He just took my hand and followed me slowly on his unsure legs.

'Scum, what's in that bag? It fucking weighs tons.'

'Toys, change of clothes, diapers, and toys.' I replied blankly. I was too busy watching at Calli trying to walk straight to care about what I was saying, too busy I totally forgot to clean my face.

We lastly arrived at the car. After putting the all shit in the trunk, we were on the point of getting in when:

'Hey, kid.' Xanxus called at the toddler who still had his hand firmly fastened with mine. He smirked and beckoned his chin at my direction. 'Wanna go with me instead?'

Ah, he said it, I thought.

Calli seemed to think deeply, glancing at me and at his father, as if he was pondering. Finally he glared at Xanxus and said:

'Voi. Stronzo.' Then he put out his tongue.

Xanxus was flabbergasted. His eyes were shooting open, staring at the one-year toddler, as if he was asking himself what was the meaning of those holy words. Seeing the scarred Italian that agape, I smirked – the smuggest, most arrogant and self-satisfied smirk of my life – as a flood of pride was overflowing all over my body. Though stains of drought chocolate ice cream still were sticking on my face.

'You see, bastard? He loves me best.'


End file.
